


Frustration

by BlackSkyandRoses



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Combat, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Frustration, Kinda, Post Winter Palace, Saragra is pissed off and several practice dummies pay the price, The Orlesians have no idea how lucky they are, Tumblr Prompt, cross posted on tumblr, emotional concern, towards the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 13:42:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4524189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackSkyandRoses/pseuds/BlackSkyandRoses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saragra needs to let off some steam after the debacle at the winter palace. </p>
<p>Based off a tumblr prompt: "You fainted... right into my arms"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frustration

Saragra was angry. Actually no, she was beyond angry. She was furious. Halamshiral had been a nightmare. And considering she’d faced off against an actual fear demon, that was saying a lot. Everyone there had acted like she was some novelty, an “exotic” guest from far away lands. She was from the fucking free marches, not some far off land they’d never heard of. And it’s not like they didn’t have dozens of elven servants in the fucking winter palace every day anyway! Most of whom had ended up dead!  
When she’d first arrived, they’d whispered and stared overtly. When she left, they were still doing the same thing, except they were either admiring her mastery of their stupid political game, or plotting how to best take advantage of her. Fucking Orlesians and their stupid “great game.” She should not have to go in there and bang the heads of a bunch of bloody nobles together and tell them to play nice like grown ups.  
She sighed, and grabbed her daggers. Stewing about this over her paperwork wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Time to take this out on some practice dummies. Maybe she’d get Sera to dress them up like Gaspard, Celene and Briala. She started to buckle on her armour, and stormed down the steps to the courtyard.  
One hour passed, then two, and finally three. Iron Bull was getting worried. The Boss had been out there for hours, working out her frustrations. She slashed and lunged, spun and danced among the dummies, pausing only to swap them out when she’d sliced one into so many useless splinters of wood and pieces of padding. He had an inkling that she had long since worked out her rage over the shit that went down at the palace, and was now working on some serious inner demons. Like that goddamn fear demon they’d faced in the fade. Crap like that would seriously mess you up. Bull saw her stagger, but kept practicing relentlessly. He made up his mind. Time to go get the Commander.  
He skirted around the practice ring, pretending he didn’t see how exhausted Saragra was, how she trembled and shook when she attacked. If she were in a real fight, she’d be dead by now, and the thought chilled him. He quickened his pace, and ran into Blackwall on the way to the battlements.  
“The lady Inquisitor has been out there for some time. Do you think maybe we should go talk to her?”  
“She won’t listen to us. I’m on my way to go haul Cullen out of his pile of paperwork so he can go talk to her.”  
Blackwall glanced from Bull to Saragra, who was practicing with her grappling hook. She’d been working on trying to perfect attacking on the downswing as she landed, but she barely had the strength left to throw the hook. If it wasn’t anchored securely into the dummies, there was a good chance she would go crashing to the ground.  
“Good idea. Mind if I join?”  
Bull grunted. “Not that I think the Commander will need much convincing to attend to her, but yeah. The more the merrier. Let’s go before she kills herself.”  
Saragra was teetering on the edge of total exhaustion. She’d never pushed herself so hard in training before. Or combat, even. Her vision was blurring, her lungs were burning and a stitch had sunk itself into her side viciously.Her legs gave out and she staggered, catching herself on one of the dummies.  
“Saragra!” a voice rang out across the courtyard. A familiar voice. Cullen. She turned towards him, and the world tilted alarmingly to the left. Her vision went dark, and she crumpled in a heap.  
Cullen caught her as she fell, his heart hammering wildly. He sunk to the ground, kneeling with her head cradled in his lap. “Saragra? Love?”  
After a few moments, her eyes fluttered open. “Wha? What happened?”  
Relief flooded Cullen, and he managed a smile.  
“You fainted...straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”  
Saragra managed a weak laugh, and raised a hand to Cullen’s cheek.  
“I needed to work some stuff out.”  
Cullen turned his head and kissed her palm lightly.  
“Do you feel better?”  
“Mmm. I don’t think I can stand up though.”  
Cullen slipped one arm under her legs and another behind her back, and picked her up gently.  
“Luckily, I can help you with that. Come on.” Cullen crossed the courtyard swiftly, with Bull and Blackwall trailing behind as a guard. He crossed the main hall of Skyhold, just holding himself back breaking into a jog.  
Saragra smiled and nuzzled into Cullen’s shoulder.  
“My hero.” She purred “Charging in to save the day.”  
Cullen snickered.  
“Save you from yourself, you mean. Silly girl, what were you thinking?”  
“I was thinking that if I ever have to go back to the Winter Palace I’m gonna crack some royal skulls for real.”  
“Well that, I can get behind.”  
Cullen climbed the stairs to Saragra’s chambers, where he planned on staying for the next several hours. To make sure she recovered, of course...


End file.
